Cats, London Palladium: Nicole Scherzinger makes West End debut

Former Pussycat Doll has the meow factor as musical slinks its way back into
town after 12 years away

Funny thing, theatre. If it wasn’t for the failure of I Can’t Sing, the X Factor musical, there probably wouldn’t have been a window at the Palladium for Cats to slink its way back into town after 12 years away.

And so there might not have been the chance for Nicole Scherzinger to make her West End debut. Her claim to fame rests partly on being racing champ Lewis Hamilton’s partner, partly on being a singer, formerly with The Pussycat Dolls - and partly on being an erstwhile judge on The X Factor.

As Grizabella – the lonely, fading “Glamour Cat” – the American star needs to show us a lot of meow factor.

This role was created by Elaine Paige and involves one of the most famous songs in the Andrew Lloyd Webber canon, that sorrowful ballad, Memory. She keeps us guessing: her first attempt, in her ragged, tassled grey dress, stiletto-heeled, thigh-high boots and long black gloves, proves a croaky conversational meander.

Without a blemish on her face, she struggles to convince as a has-been (she’s only 36). In the second half reprise though, she finds something deep inside and truly makes your hairs stand on end.

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Hers is not a dominant role, but it’s a central one. Grizabella is the “Jellicle cat” chosen by leader Old Deuteronomy to ascend to the Heaviside Layer and be reincarnated – a moment delivered with a coup de theatre in Trevor Nunn’s souped-up staging, which lacks the revolve of the New London but doesn’t stint on spectacle.

Any complaints about mystic mumbo-jumbo should be laid at the door of TS Eliot – upon whose 1939 poetry collection Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats the lyrics are based.

But just when you’re inclined to dismiss the show as a vapid parade for prancing thesps in moggy-costumes, fit only for the junk-yard of John Napier’s set – something gets under your skin. In celebrating feline foibles and nocturnal rituals, the evening scavenges for meaning in our own brief life cycles.

Choreographer Dame Gillian Lynne, 88, was kept away from the opening night by broken ribs but the grace and poise of yet another generation of dancers was a credit to her.

Has the show dated since 1981? Aside from some tinny electronic sounds, not really.

Is that because it’s timeless? I don’t think so. Cats is actually a classy species of panto – fluffy, shiny, just about perfect for this time of year.